


A Place To Stay

by alexthenerdlord



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Bonding, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, I'm bad at tags, M/M, Pre-Relationship, a thing is mentioned in passing at least, help these boys, i guess, minor spoilers for ep 68, oh boy John hates himself oh boy, sort of, they're all dorks tbh, this ship started off as a shitpost and now we're here, uhhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 07:03:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11686515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexthenerdlord/pseuds/alexthenerdlord
Summary: The world ended, and then it didn't, and things were starting to go back to normal.And now a man known as John needs a home, and a friend thinks he has an idea.(((I'M SORRY BUT ALSO NOT FOR THIS ENTIRE CONCEPT)))





	A Place To Stay

**Author's Note:**

> this entire ship started with a text to a group chat that read "the only way The Hunger can be defeated is for John to become comfortable in his sexuality and realize he's gay for Merle," and honestly it got entirely out of hand from there. Oops. 
> 
> Sorry if anything is OOC I'm bad at fanfic

"Hey Dav, this is... this is John... is it alright if he stays with us for a while?"

  
"MERLE CAN WE TALK PRIVATELY FOR A SEC" 

  
John awkwardly shuffled on his feet. He may not have a lot of practice with the whole socialization thing (or maybe he did, once... but that would've been a long time ago), but even he could tell that Davenport was not open to the idea of John living with them. John supposed he could understand why. He- they? What used to be him and he used to be? Well, the Hunger  _ had  _ tried to kill them for a century, so John understood why Davenport wouldn't want him here.    
Merle looked to John as if to say "I'll be back in a sec," and followed Davenport. John vaguely remember being told that eavesdropping was rude, so he tried his best not to listen to the conversation, but it was... hard when there was so much yelling. John tried to busy himself by looking at the pictures on the wall of the Davenport-Highchurch home.

  
He saw a picture of Davenport and Merle standing happily together in what appeared like a bar, arms swung around each other and smiles radiating. John felt the smile spreading from the picture to him. Strange, he thought, how a simple happy picture could make he himself feel happy. Emotions were still something he was readjusting to. 

  
Next was a picture of Merle and two young children John didn't recognize. Those must be Merle's children! Mavis and... Snookie, was it? Regardless, the three were relaxing and laughing with each other on the beach. John thought it was nice that Merle was close with his children, it seemed important to him that he do so. 

  
Above either of these pictures seemed to be a group photo of the Starblaster crew. They all looked so... happy. John- no, The Hunger had chased them for so long, yet they had... they had found happiness even then. For the second time of knowing him, something of Merle's made John feel slightly... sad.

 

"It's not the original, you know," a voice behind him said. John jumped a bit, and turned to face whoever had entered the room. It was Davenport. "Lucretia repainted her masterpiece for each member of the crew. We have another copy somewhere around here." 

  
"I... see," John murmured, "that was very nice of her." 

  
Davenport crossed his arms and hardened his gaze at John. "Yes, it was. She's done some... questionable things, but Lucretia has always been a... very good person. Better than most."   
John sensed that Davenport was very... unhappy with the current situation. Where was Merle?   
  


"Where's Merle?" John asked. Davenport sighed.   
  


"Merle is in the kitchen still. He has, erm, locked us in here, for some reason."   
  


"IT'S ONLY UNTIL YOU GUYS GET FRIENDLY!" Merle shouted from behind the apparently locked door. "OH, ALSO! I CAST ZONE OF TRUTH!"    
John felt the spell fall over him, and saw from Davenport's expression that he felt it too.

 

"Merle-" Davenport started, but was cut off by said dwarf.    
  


"What the hell we don't have any gummy worms. This is bullshit Dav. I'm going to the store, I hope by the time I'm back you two are buddies BYE!" And with that, the two in the living room heard the slam of the kitchen door. Merle had left them. In a locked room. This was fine.    
  


"This is not fine," Davenport sighed.

 

John wrung his hands behind his back. He was nervous. Why was he nervous? He wished he had more time to prepare for this... whatever this was. Merle was the only one John felt comfortable around, in a sense, and he'd just left. Left him with a guy who clearly didn't like him. Maybe if John could figure out why he was nervous he could stop being nervous. Emotions worked like that, right? Okay, so why was he nervous-   
  


"Merle tells me you like chess," Davenport said, "that true?"

 

John blinked. "I, erm... y-yes, I like chess."    
  


"Great." Davenport nodded and turned to a nearby bookshelf. "Let's play. It'll help pass the time. Merle always gets sidetracked on his way to the store." The gnome paused and grinned to himself, "Maybe at least this time he won't impulse buy twenty copies of Pan inspired coloring books."    
The idea of Merle, an old dwarf with a wooden arm and an eyepatch, coloring in a book probably meant for children, brought a soft smile onto John's face. Merle's antics always seemed to do that.    
  


"Anyways," Davenport continued, sitting down and setting up the board, "shall we?"    
  


John tried to keep his smile as he responded, "Yes. Though, I must warn you, I'm rather good."

 

* * *

 

The beginning of their game was... tense, to say the least. Davenport wouldn't look at John, and John tried to keep his mind on the game at hand, but was also worried by the idea that he would not be allowed to stay in this home. He understood, yes, but he would still have to think of something, lest he be left out on the streets. Though, considering what he'd done, maybe that was what he deserved...   
  


"Hey," Davenport said. This didn't seem to snap The Hung- John out of his thoughts. The man (was he a man?) was biting his fingers and obviously worrying about something, though Davenport wasn't sure what. It couldn't have been the game, John was winning at this point, as much as Davenport hated to admit. But it was John's turn, and he didn't look like he was doing anything to make a move.    
  


"Hey," he tried again, though this didn't seem to do much either.    
  


"J... John?" Davenport wasn't used to referring to... this... as anything but The Hunger, but he was trying. Trying for Merle. "Are you alright?" 

  
John still wasn't responding. Davenport was beginning to worry that John might bite his fingers too hard soon. Would he bleed? He was human now, it seemed, so he'd probably bleed, right? Although he was still biting one hand, the other had taken to digging into his knee. That... probably wasn't great either.   
And looking at him now, looking at John as he was right in front of him, Davenport suddenly caught a glimpse of what Merle saw.

 

He saw a man that was nervous, nervous around a man he was sure hated him. He saw a man who softly smiled at the littlest things, but with a smile that was so  _ genuine _ . He saw a man who glowed while he played chess, who enjoyed the rules and comfort of a game.    
Most of all, Davenport saw a man who was... scared. Scared of himself. 

 

Davenport’s expression softened at the realization. He still wasn't as comfortable as Merle around the man that had tried to kill them for a century but… he was willing to try. Not just for Merle this time. For John, too. 

 

Davenport got up and crossed the short distance between the two, and put a hand on John’s knee, which was about stomach level or so on the small gnome. The action made John jump. He looked down at Davenport, looking as though he were still reeling from whatever it was he'd been thinking about. He cleared his throat.

 

“I’m, um, sorry about that,” John said, “happens sometimes.” 

 

“I understand,” Davenport replied, and he did. There were many times that he was caught in his thoughts for far too long, thinking of all of the things that could have been,  _ should _ have been. 

 

Davenport retreated back to his seat, and observed the man in front of him. He was still John, nothing look wise had changed from a moment ago, but Davenport was beginning to see him in a new light. Merle’s light, in a way. 

 

“Do you… wanna talk about it?” Davenport asked. He didn't know if he was overstepping a boundary, but Merle always asked him that when he was back from a dangerous adventure in the zone of his thoughts. 

 

John didn't say anything. He took in the chessboard in front of him for a moment, pursing his lips and bringing up his hand to rest his chin on, thinking about the best possible move, it seemed.  _ Cute _ , Davenport thought, and then sputtered and the mere idea. Oh no, he did  _ not _ just call The Hunger  _ cute _ . 

 

_ No, I didn't, _ a small voice in the back of his head said,  _ I called John cute. _

 

“That's… kind of you,” John replies, and for a moment Davenport has to remember what it was he'd offered. “But I'm… not sure if I want to talk about it? It's difficult to explain to someone, I think.” 

 

“That’s alright,” Davenport says, “you don't have to if you don't want to.” 

 

And for a while, he doesn't. They both sit in a comfortable, if slightly awkward, silence. They continue their game, and for a moment, Davenport pulls ahead, but John once again pulls through. It’s getting rather intense, if chess games can do so. 

 

“Do you… hate me?” John asks as he moves a bishop, breaking Davenport from his growing plan to defeat his opponent. Davenport blinks. Guess John wants to talk about it now. And then he blinks again.  _ Does _ he hate John? Or does he hate The Hunger? Or both? 

 

“I’m not sure yet, to be quite honest,” he says, because really, he isn't. John clearly wasn't expecting this answer, however. 

 

“You… you don't know?” John frowns. “Should you, though? I… I did  _ awful  _ things to you- to your  _ friends. _ ” 

 

Davenport thinks for a moment before replying. “Did you though?” 

 

And John looks taken aback. He opens his mouth as though to reply, but then closes it. He does this a few times, and Davenport can't help but think he looks like a bit like a fish. 

 

“Merle says I shouldn't think of myself as The Hunger,” John says softly, “that I should… that I should just think of myself as John. Because it was The Hunger that did all of those things, not… not  _ John _ .” He pauses and clenches his fists. “But, but I still did those things! I- I helped! I'm an accomplice, or, or something!” He looks up at Davenport, frustrated with himself, with this whole situation. “I killed Merle all of those times, in Parley! Doesn't that… That makes me a bad person! You should hate me!” 

 

Davenport looks back at the man in front of him. And again, he sees a man who's scared. Who’s mad. A man who wants to do better, by himself and by others. He's quickly beginning to see what Merle saw, in more than just a glimpse. 

 

“Well, in a way, you did, I guess,” Davenport says, “but I think the situation was more complicated than that. I may not know as much about what happened between you and Merle, but he did tell me that, in that last Parley, you tried to… help? In a way? Tried to give him advice before… whatever happened to you happened.” 

 

John does opens his mouth again, but before he can say anything, Davenport raises his hand. 

 

“And I also think you're trying to do better now. Are you trying to do better now, John?” 

 

John looks confused. Better? Better than what, murdering entire realms of existence? Not that he really has that power anymore, but…

 

“I- Yes, yes of course,” John says, looking down at his palms. “I’d love to take back everything I did, honestly.” 

 

And for the first time since they'd met each other, Davenport smiles at John. 

 

“Then I think that’s good enough for now, dontcha think?” the gnome says. 

 

John feels something escape from his eyes. He touches his cheek and feels the tears running down them. He looks at them with puzzlement. 

 

“I… I don't understand, I don't feel sad, so why-” he asks, mostly to himself. 

 

Davenport waves his hand in front of him, saying “Eh, emotions are weird like that. A lot of people cry tears of happiness and stuff. Maybe you're just relieved or something.” He grins at John, and moves one of his pawns. “Now, whaddya say we get back to this game of chess? I still think I have a chance of kicking your butt, if I do say so myself.” 

 

John does a small laugh through a small smile, and again Davenport has the slight thought of  _ cute _ , but pushes it aside. No need to get complicated feelings about their new roommate, at least not right now. Not when he has a game of chess to kick ass in. 

 

“You say that, but.” John moves his knight. “I do believe that's checkmate, Captain.” 

 

Davenport sputters and looks down at the chessboard. Sure enough, John has checkmate. While Davenport does more sputtering, John actually laughs. The laughter spreads to Davenport after a moment, and soon the duo is laughing over a finished game of chess. 

 

* * *

 

A little less than half an hour later, the two are standing near the wall of photos, and Davenport is explaining to John what was happening during each photo, and both seem to be enjoying themselves. 

 

They hear the door open, and hear Merle set something down on what must be the kitchen table. Merle walks into the living room, and is greeted by two smiles. Merle paints his face with a shit-eating grin. He knew they'd get along. He does have something to tell Davenport, though. 

 

“Okay, I know you told me not to impulse buy shit anymore, but the store had this awesome set of piggy banks-” 

 

And the Davenport-Highchurch-John home is filled again with laughter. Laughter that would stay for years to come. 

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr at my main blog thesoftboi.tumblr.com or my writing blog alexwritessomestuff.tumblr.com


End file.
